


Dr. Blair Sandburg

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama, M/M, None - Freeform, Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 08:04:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/795803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair submits his diss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dr. Blair Sandburg

## Dr. Blair Sandburg

by Dana

All actual locations are used in a fictional sense. All names of people living or dead of purely coincidental.

This story is a sequel to: California Here We Come 

* * *

As they were eating breakfast, Jim said, "You need to continue your education. You have to turn in a real dissertation." 

"Rainer won't take me back. I am happy working beside you at CPD. Has Simon been giving you trouble about the fraternization policy again? The police commissioner doesn't know that you need me to control your senses and it is better that he doesn't." 

"Simon take it out on me because I am the Senior Detective and I should know better. Simon knows he can't split us up; the commissioner yelled at him and he needs to yell at someone else." 

"Then, you yell at me. Who am I suppose to take it out on?" Blair ate his toast. 

"I didn't yell." Jim put his dish in the sink. "Would you like more coffee?" Jim refilled two mugs with coffee. 

"Whatever. I don't mind the lectures that trickle down from the commissioner. It is your fault that you got the lecture. Simon has been warning about PDA for years. You shouldn't have kissed me in front of half of Major Crimes." Blair started to wash the dishes. 

"You enjoyed it at the time. It is hard enough for me to hide that I am a sentinel. I am not about to hide what I feel for you." Jim dried two plates and flatware. 

"We agreed to be open about our relationship from the start. I don't mind the affection at the station and I can tolerate the lecture afterwards about policy, but Simon has told us time and time again that he didn't care what we did at home but we should keep the PDA to a minimum for our own benefit. Other couples aren't allowed to work together and he can't explain to other officers about the sentinel-guide relationship." Blair drank his coffee. 

"I remember the lecture we had the first time that it happened. 'I don't let married couples work together'." 

"Simon then smiled at you and told you not to let it happen again." 

"I like touching you. It is so hard for me to keep my hands to myself nine to ten hours a day." 

"Maybe we shouldn't work together. You don't zone out anymore and I could teach Megan or Joel how to guide you." 

"I need your help with my senses. I get so overwhelmed with input that I can't focus." Jim put his coat on. "We can continue this conversation in the truck." 

Blair hurried into his coat. "Megan or Joel could learn. It wouldn't take as long for one of them to learn as it did me. They would benefit from my experience." 

Jim locked the door. "What if something comes up?" 

"I'm a phone call away." 

"While the prep escapes." Jim started down the stairs. "We'll discuss it later." 

"We should talk about it, now." Blair looked Jim in the eye at the bottom of the stairs. 

"I don't want to work with Joel or Megan. I want to work with you." 

"Are you afraid that one of them will realize that you aren't the super cop they believe you to be?" 

"Blair, you are hitting below the belt. Simon says that you don't break up the best team on the force." 

"You asked me if I wanted to go back to school." 

Jim took his seat in the truck. "I didn't ask you to break-up the best team in Cascade PD." 

"I can't do both. I did it before and fucked up royally." 

"I want you to go school. I don't want you to quit working beside me." Jim pulled out of the parking space. 

"Rainer won't take me back." 

"There are other schools." 

"Washington's a big state. Most are out of commuting distance." 

"You don't have to stay in Cascade. We could go anywhere in the world." 

"You are needed here." 

"The University of California at Berkeley seemed very interested in your research on sentinels. Couldn't you write the dissertation without our names and submit it?" 

"No, not after everything that has taken place." 

"Send them a summary of the other diss." 

"That is boring." After three, almost four years, of work on the paper about closed society, Blair believed that it still read like a sloppy undergraduate sociology paper. Urban anthropology crossed with sociology, but he was worried that his paper went more over social interactions, not the cultural ramifications. 

"If they want you, they won't care. You went on seven expeditions between your bachelor's and master's degree and published nearly fifteen papers. Your academic reputation speaks for itself." 

"I stopped going on expeditions because you needed me." 

"I didn't tell you not to go." Jim stopped at a light. 

"Jim, you may have never said that you loved me but I could see it in your eyes. I don't regret not going to Borneo. My only regret it after filling hundreds of notepads with my observations at the police force is that I am left with no startling conclusions or brilliant observations. I have worked at a site for less than three months and had more to say that I have about my years at Cascade PD. I can't turn in shit." 

"You are too hard on yourself. Give it to a peer to read. I am sure that it isn't shit." 

"I haven't been in contact with them since the disaster at Rainer. I can't go up to someone and say read this two hundred plus page paper and let me know how I can make it more interesting." 

"The members of Major Crimes will read it. Megan and Simon would love to give you suggestions." 

"They aren't academics." 

"But they know the subject. I am sure they can make it more exciting." 

"Simon's antidotes are more boring than mine." 

"Chief, your antidotes are never boring. I have learned so much listening to you. I often wonder how you can keep all that information in that pretty little head of yours." 

"Jim, Megan wouldn't tell me it is shit; even if it is." 

Blair invited Megan over for dinner the following evening. "Megan, I want to go back to school but my diss on close societies is terrible. Can you read it for me and give me any suggests to make it seem less childish?" 

Megan looked at the stuffed folder. "Blair, I would love to read it. I am sure it is fantastic." 

"If it bores you to tears, don't spare my feelings," Blair said. 

"You wrote this paper two years ago," Megan said. 

"I couldn't hand it in until after the settlement with the publishing company was history. Jim and I were still talking about suing Rainer for their involvement for accepting a dissertation without the consent of the student. I couldn't even think about applying to another school until the fraudulent dissertation crap was far behind me." 

"I told Blair that if he didn't get his doctorate that twenty years from now, he would regret it," Jim said. "Tell my stubborn, obnoxious partner that his paper isn't shit." 

"Did you read it?" Megan asked grabbing some dip and chips. 

"Yes. I think it is brilliant but Blair says my opinion is biased." Jim took a slug of beer. 

"Is it?" Megan looked into Jim's deep blue eyes. 

"It is better than the textbook written for the academy. It really tells what it is like in a big city detective office. Blair has a wonderful writing style but you know that. It isn't as dry as a normal textbook. Although Blair had changed the names and circumstances in our office, I felt like I was with him. I loved his talk about jargon and euphemisms. He spoke with great eloquence about police ethics versus layman ethics. He explained without lecturing that detectives need to see everyone as guilty to do their job efficiently." Jim put his hand on Blair's shoulder. "Baby, this should be published for the police academy as a book on police ethics. There is so much more covered in your paper than in that little pamphlet that they gave us to read. A book like this might prevent police burn out. Cadets would understand the conviction necessary to be an effective cop." 

"I told you his opinion was biased." Blair put his hand on the folder. 

"I will read it and give you an honest opinion. I suspect it is worthy of Jim's praise." Megan put the folder on her lap. 

A week later, Megan returned the folder after having it bond at a local printer. "I never read a textbook so well written. I couldn't put it down." Megan put her arm around Blair after she had dropped the new bond folder on his desk. "I can hear them say Dr. Blair Sandburg all ready. Blair, your writing is eloquent and concise. I have read many books on ethics and none covered the subject with the clarity that you did." 

"So I should publish it," Blair asked. 

"It should be made into a textbook for police academies across the country," Megan said. "Sandy, do you mind if I give it to Captain Banks to read?" 

"Go ahead," Blair said. "I can make other copies." 

Simon returned with praise for the document a day later. "Sandburg, you should publish this." 

"Doesn't give out secrets about the station?" Blair asked. 

"No, you did an adequate job of changing the names and circumstances," Simon said. "You speak of nothing confidential. This would make a wonderful academy textbook. It covers a multitude of subjects concisely. It would tell an ignorant cadet what to expect on the force. A book like this would eliminate much burn out from rookies that only joined the force to impress their girlfriends." 

"The academy doesn't want anything as honest as this," Jim said entering the office. "It would frighten too many cadets away." 

"With a few minor changes, it would be a perfectly good textbook for criminal justice majors," Simon said. "Sandburg, are you going to present this document to Rainer?" 

"They want nothing to do with me, Sir," Blair said. 

"Go to another university," Simon said, "and publish without them." 

"Fine, I will send an application and summary to Berkeley in the morning," Blair said throwing his hand up in the air. 

"Tell them to call me and I will verify that you did the research under my supervision," Simon said. "Get to work." 

* * *

Jim took a seat in the mostly empty lecture hall as Blair explained, "A large city police department is a closed society, not unlike the military or even the Amish. They have their own culture, jargon and inside jokes..." 

Jim sat back as he listened to his life partner defend his dissertation. After Blair was done, he spoke to Dean Anthropology, Dr. Helen Carrington, a moment. "Would you be interested in rewriting your dissertation as a textbook on police ethics?" she said in a soft voice. 

"I have never written a textbook before," Blair said. 

"A professor in the Criminal Justice department has written a textbook. He might be able to advise you." Dr. Helen Carrington gave him the card. 

"I will call Professor Holdeman as soon as possible," Blair said. 

"Can we speak in my office?" asked Dr. Carrington. Her office was a little bigger than Blair's former office, the storage closet. Jim and Blair took their seats. Dr. Carrington shifted some papers then spoke; "Mr. Sandburg's paper wasn't particularly original, although he presented it in an intelligent and logical fashion. The three of us know that his previous dissertation wasn't fraudulent. I dare say that the only thing fraudulent was Mr. Sandburg claiming that it was fraudulent." 

"What makes you say that?" Blair asked. His heart rate increased and he started to sweat. 

"Other than I had this feeling that Mr. Ellison overheard conversations that he shouldn't have. Intuition aside, I don't think Mr. Sandburg lied for over two hundred pages." 

"What now?" Blair's voice shook slightly only enough that Jim heard it. 

Jim took his companion's hand. Blair was still sweating and his pulse was slightly elevated. 

"I'm going to approve the dissertation on the ground that you write a textbook on the subject. I would like to see some of your previous research on sentinels, nothing that would incriminate Mr. Ellison. Of course, the textbook comes first." 

"I worked with over a hundred people with one or more enhanced senses. I have much information about sentinel-guide relations but I can only present it as mythology, but I am not about to discuss my personal life," Blair said. 

"I have seen Richard Burton's book and know something of the mythology. I don't remember seeing the word 'guide'." 

"A rogue agent called me that," Blair said. "As much as I can tell, a guide helps a sentinel use his senses. Without a guide a sentinel would become catatonic or insane. However, all information that I have heard on other sentinels is strictly hearsay and couldn't be used for academic research." 

"I would like to see more work with people with one or more enhanced senses," Dr. Carrington said. 

"I will work on it after I finish the textbook," Blair said. 

"Be back on August 15th and I will set you up in an office," Dr. Carrington said. "It was nice meeting you, Detective Ellison." 

"Likewise," Jim said. 

"Mr. Ellison, everything said in this office is strictly confidential," Dr. Carrington assured both of them. 

August seemed to come too quickly. Megan Conner threw Jim and Blair a going away party. The SFPD was glad to take Det. James Ellison as a detective. Blair had agreed to meet with Jim's new partner and explain how to effectively guide Jim. "Good luck," Megan hugged them both. 

"I am sorry that I treated you so poorly when we were supposed to be husband and wife," Jim said. 

"I knew you and Sandy were together two hours after we met," Megan said. 

"Two hours?" Rafe asked. 

"It is hard to think during a car chase," Megan said. "I am going to miss you both." 

Rafe took Jim aside. "Keep Sandburg away from vending machines." 

"No can do. The university is full of them," Jim said. 

"Are you going to tell your new captain that you are a sentinel?" Simon asked. 

"I don't know," Jim said. "I hate that I will need to tell my new partner." 

"Your partner's name is Robin Whittier had been on the force ten years. She has been an detective with homicide seven." 

"Blair claims that anyone can guide me, but I am going to miss working with him," Jim said. 

"You don't need me," Blair said. 

"I will always need you." Jim stroked Blair's cheek. "You are my life." 

Blair kissed Jim proving once again that kissing was a full-contact sport. Blair filled their glasses with punch. "Simon, the commissioner is probably glad to see us go." 

"Never. You have the best crime solved record of any team that ever worked for the city," Simon said. 

"And the commissioner didn't drill you a new asshole every month about the fraternization policy," Blair said. 

"We install such policy because most couples who work together get no work done. Ellison productively drops to close to nothing if he isn't working with you. During those four months between you losing your observation pass and starting the academy, Ellison did nothing put paperwork." 

"I didn't think I could function on the street without Sandburg," Jim said. 

"I pity Detective Whittier," Megan said. 

"Blair agreed to teach Detective Whittier everything she needs to know," Jim said. 

"How did it go?" Megan whispered to Blair. 

"She wants me to write a textbook. I contacted a professor in the criminal justice department. He is editing my paper and we start working together in the fall," Blair said. 

"Congratulations," Megan said. 

"We're not surprised that you have a book deal all ready. Publishers don't usually offer million dollar contacts." 

"I don't expect a large cash advance," Blair said. 

Jim slapped Blair on the back. "Or any." 

"Just royalties," said Blair. "That I will have to share with my co-writer." 

* * *

After Blair unpacked his books and put up two tribal masks on the wall, Dr. Carrington came to his office. "Dr. Rosen from the sociology won't be for another week. I tried my best not overlap your office hours." 

"Thank you," Blair said. 

"Would you like to join me for lunch," Dr. Carrington asked. 

"I am vegan is that a problem?" Blair said. 

"No. I can't imagine Detective Ellison living on rice and beans." 

"No, he raves about my cooking then goes out for Wonderburgers." 

"How is the textbook going?" Dr. Carrington led Blair out of the building. 

"Mr. Holdeman and I have reviewed the first few chapters. We should have a completed book before the semester ends." 

"Any preferences for lunch?" 

"Indian is fine or a salad place," Blair said. "I promised that I would meet Jim's partner this afternoon." 

"I understand. You have to teach her to guide him." Dr. Carrington led him to the parking lot. "You don't mind if we take my car." 

"Not at all. Pardon me, but you seem to know too much about sentinels. I thought I was the only one to be researching them." 

After Dr. Carrington and Blair were sitting in the privacy on her car, she said, "My late husband was a sentinel. I was his guide for over twenty years." 

"I'm sorry." 

"He died of a brain tumor three years ago. As a psychiatrist, he used his enhanced senses to help patients and did some work with sentinels and guides but none of it was published. I might be able to make you privy to soon of his research for your personal benefit." 

"That is more than I could ask. Did you find the sentinels and guides bound to a lifetime commitment?" 

"Charlie found that sentinels needed a guide to maintain their sanity." 

"Do you have children?" Blair felt entitled to ask personal questions because she asked him some personal questions; a few that he refused to answer. 

"Two girls. One has enhanced senses but not all five." 

"How did you meet your husband?" 

"We were both students at the same university. I learned he had enhanced senses as our relationship progressed and like any other college student I tried to locate all the information that I could on the subject." 

"How did you learn guide him?" 

"The same as you through trail and error. There is no authority on how to guide a sentinel." 

"Except for my dissertation that will never be published. Maybe I should write in my will that it could be published posthumously." 

"Someday, I would like to see that." 

"Perhaps, one day, I will trust you enough to show it to you." 

Dr. Carrington smirked. "It has no sexual secrets." 

"Nothing kinky. I have a chapter on pheromones." 

Dr. Carrington parked next to the restaurant. "You have no problem with the schedule?" 

"I taught Introduction to Social and Cultural Anthropology many times and I have taught several two hundred levels. My specialization is in native American populations." 

"You should have no problem with the schedule." 

"I have never taught Evolutionary Anthropology before. The course wasn't being taught at Rainer when I started my graduate work." 

"I heard you missed many classes when you were teaching at Rainer. That won't be accepted here." 

"Understood. I'm not working full-time for the police force." 

"You are still Jim's guide." 

"I will not let my responsibilities at home pull me away from my obligations with the university." 

Blair was excited to be teaching again. After returning to his shared office, he looked at the textbook the university used for the introductory course. It was similar to the textbook that he used before. He worked on his syllabus as he waited to meet Jim and his partner at SFPD and didn't want to write a syllabus for a course that he had never had taught before although from the table of contents most of the stuff was in other classes that he had taken before. He hoped Jim could locate his office as he typed into the computer since his name wasn't on the list of professors on the wall of the Anthropology department. However, his name was placed under Dr. Rosen's on the door of their office. Blair stared at the Dr. in front of his name, looking forward to teaching the classes. 

Jim walked through the open door of Blair's office. A woman with dark short hair stayed in the hallway. Blair looked at the incredibly beautiful older woman; she seemed to have half-African and half-Indian features with large dark eyes, a fairly large straight nose, large full-lips and nearly perfect medium brown skin. "Making yourself at home." 

"I am teaching four classes," Blair said. 

Jim handed Blair a pile of papers. 

"I am not observing. What do I need these for?" 

"Domestic partnership. The university isn't providing you with insurance and trouble has a way of finding you. Don't get hurt in the next thirty days." 

"Aren't you going to introduce me?" Blair asked looking at the beautiful woman lingering outside his office door. 

"Dr. Blair Sandburg, this is my partner, Detective Robin Whittier," Jim said, wanting to get twenty Doctor Sandburgs in while it was still novel, besides he enjoyed seeing Blair blush. 

"It is good to meet you, Dr. Sandburg," Det. Whittier said. 

"It is Blair. Please, take a seat," he said as he started to read the stack of papers that Jim gave him. 

"Robin." She took one of the two other chairs in the room. 

"Jim, sit down. Margaret Rosen isn't going to be here for another week." 

"What have you told Robin?" Blair asked. 

"That you were my partner in Cascade: three years as unpaid observer and two more as a full detective." 

"So what do want to tell me?" Robin asked. 

"Jim, how much do you want me to tell her?" Blair asked still finding places to sign and double-checking the information Jim provided. 

"Robin, do you promise whatever Blair tells you won't leave this office?" Jim asked. 

"Is this business related?" Robin asked. 

"Medical. I zone out periodically," Jim explained. 

"You drive, so you don't have seizures," Robin said. 

"Similar, my mind goes blank when I use one sense exclusively," Jim said. "You use several senses to drive." 

"If Jim seems to be staring in space, touching his back and talk to him in a soft, soothing voice. Yelling at him is the worst thing you can do. He should snap out of it in a few seconds," Blair said. 

"How often does this happen?" Robin asked. 

"Lately, less than once a month. I just don't want you to panic when it happens," Jim said. "So are you free for a late lunch." 

"I have work to do." 

"Chief, when you finish those papers could you drop them at the station?" 

"I will be done in a moment." 

"We will wait," said Robin. "Dr. Sandburg, I can see you are busy." 

"Please, call me Blair." Blair handed Jim the papers. 

"Ellison, if you zone out, as you call it, shouldn't you be behind a desk?" asked Robin. 

"I have been on force for over five years with them," Jim said. "If they happen more frequently, I will ask for a safe desk job." 

"I wouldn't trust anyone else with my life," said Blair. "Jim was Cop of the Year three out of those five years." 

"The last one was over three months ago," said Jim. "Blair wanted me to tell you as a precaution." 

"Together five years and you still dote over each other," said Robin. "My husband stopped calling me during the day or inviting himself over to lunch before we were married a year." 

Jim held the papers under his arm. "The sooner I get them in, the sooner he's covered." 

"He must be accident prone," said Robin. 

"If you call eating drug-laced pizza accident prone?" said Blair. 

"I was working on stopping a new designer drug from entering Cascade when they learned I was a cop and sent pizzas to the station. There was one slice missing." 

Blair smiled as he returned to writing his syllabus. 

"Trouble finds him," said Jim. 

"I am not a police observer anymore. No one is going to bother me." 

"Chief, you get in more trouble sitting in an office than most people do walking a beat." Jim kissed Blair's cheek. "I'll buy take-out for dinner that was we can take our time unpacking the kitchen boxes. I'll see you in a few hours." 

Blair returned to find to the townhouse that they were renting to find Jim nearly unpacked except for his tons of textbooks. "Jim, you didn't have do it all yourself." 

"I don't mind. The only long job left is putting your books on the bookcases," Jim said. 

"I will do it after we eat." 

"I made you a veggie burger and rice," Jim said. 

"Thanks." Blair kissed his cheek. "That was sweet." Blair started to open the books marked books and putting them into the bookcases. 

Jim sat a plate beside Blair. "You smell fresher and cleaner since you gave up animal products. Your shit even smells better." 

"That's why you haven't complained about the lack of real food, as you call it, in the house. You'll smell better if you gave up eating animal flesh." 

"Not a chance. We can grocery shop tomorrow." 

"I am sorry that I am so late. I lost track of the time." 

"I'm used to working with you. It feels strange having to make time to be with you." Jim touched Blair's thigh. 

"We will manage." Blair put a case of book on the shelves. "We can get these books up in less than an hour." 

"I unpacked all the dishes. Maybe you should check out the kitchen," Jim said. 

"In a moment." Blair ate his veggie burger. "I love you." 

"I love you, too, Chief." Jim opened another box of books. "Dr. Carrington knows more about sentinels than she should." 

"She was a guide for over twenty years," Blair said. "Her husband spoke to other sentinels and guides in his practice. She said that I could look at the records for my own private use. She knows what it is like to feel like you are in this alone." 

"Anything that she told you that could be useful." Jim picked up the empty plate. 

"Nothing we didn't know. What did Robin say about me?" 

Jim repeated what was said in the office. "She thought it was cute the way I dote over you." 

"You are going to need to be able to handle things without a guide. What if I went on an expedition?" Blair put more books on the shelf. 

"I would go with you." 

"You would be bored out of your mind in some third world country." 

"I would have you." 

"You should tell Robin that you're a sentinel. You don't want her thinking that you zone outs are caused by a brain tumor." 

"I'll tell her. I might be reassigned next week and we can't have the whole station knowing." 

"Are you ok with Robin knowing about us?" 

"This is San Francisco; half the cops are gay." Jim shrugged his shoulders. "Chief, I was the butt of queer jokes before you and I became physically involved. It's old hat." 

"When you know if Robin will be your partner for more than a couple days, I'll give her advice on helping you focus your senses. I'm king of obfuscation. But Robin or whoever your partner ends up needs to know about your heightened sense unless you want to work with earplugs and blinders on." 

"Tomorrow morning, I will tell her and you can start giving her lessons on guiding me." 

* * *

At the station, Jim signed Blair in as a guest. They walked over to Robin's desk. Blair sat down at the empty desk. Jim was only there one day, no time for knickknacks or papers. Jim took Robin by the arm. "Robin, we need to talk about what causes my zone-outs. Blair has agreed to teach you how to prevent them." 

"Ellison, maybe you should do desk work. I need someone guarding my back who won't flake out." 

"I'm a sentinel," Jim said. 

"And?" Robin looked puzzled. 

"I have heightened senses. Blair claims I am a genetic throw back. My enhanced senses help me to protect the tribe. I can sense the changes in air pressure and know when it is time to move on. Blair says it much better with his Richard Burton reference, the explorer, not the actor." 

"I don't get it," said Robin. 

"I show better than tell. You have on Secret deodorant, you used Crest then Scope, you have a spot of grease on your sleeve from the Egg McMuffin without meat you ate for breakfast." 

"You're freaky." 

"Blair called me a human crime lab among other things." 

"Why do you zone out?" 

"It happens when I rely on one sense too much. Blair can tell you all about preventing them." 

Robin looked at Blair as if to say is this true. 

"Robin, the three of us should go somewhere," said Blair. 

Jim said, "Is there a park we can go to?" 

"Sure. I'll get my sweater." Robin picked up the sweater lying across the back of her chair. 

"You and Blair," said Jim. "You shouldn't visit Cascade if you think this is sweater weather." 

Robin led Jim and Blair to a park. Wrinkling up his nose, Blair took a detour around a man barbequing. "The smell of burning flesh was making me ill." 

"I thought you had the enhanced senses," Robin said looking at Jim. 

"All animal flesh smells the same," explained Jim. "The only difference in the smell of chicken burning and human flesh burning is the oil." 

"Pig oil smells the closest to human oil. People have compared the smell of napalm to the smell of bacon in the morning. All I know is that the smell of barbeque turns my stomach. I can't believe I actually ate that stuff a few years back." Blair sat on a bench. 

"I will never ask another vegetarian if they miss the taste of meat," Robin said. 

"Teach," said Jim. "You're the teacher." 

Blair stood up and demonstrated. "Robin, usually I prevent zone outs by placing a hand on Jim's shoulder. He can't focus too much on one sense if he is also aware of a gentle pressure on his back or shoulder. Talking in a soft voice also works." 

"Is that all?" said Robin. 

"As time goes on, you will learn how to point out things for Jim to focus on," Blair said. 

"Sirens don't cause you to zone out?" Robin asked. 

"Only when my senses first came back," said Jim. "And if am doing nothing else but listening to the steady repeating sound. My last zone out was over three months ago." 

"Then, why tell me?" 

"Blair is such a good guide that he prevents them from happening," Jim said. 

"I am not going to babysit a freak." 

"Jim has had enhanced senses for five years. He knows how to turn down the dials in his head. He knows how to focus on a particular smell or voice. Robin, you don't have to babysit anybody," said Blair. "He needs you to point out the obvious like Watson did for Sherlock Holmes." 

"I can do that," Robin said. "I know this is none of my business but were you his police partner or domestic partner first." 

"I met Jim because a friend of mine faxed me his medical records when I was looking for a person with enhanced senses for my dissertation. I pretended to be a doctor to see him," said Blair. 

"He was pretty lousy doctor," said Jim. 

"If you have good communication skills, zone out can be avoided," Blair said. "Jim doesn't need a babysitter; he is a big boy and an ex-Army ranger." 

"How enhanced are your senses?" Robin asked. 

"Let's say that I can watch your back from over a block away and I can hear Blair's heartbeat several buildings away, but then again I listen to his heartbeat to go to sleep most nights. Sometimes, I doubt I couldn't sleep without it," Jim said. 

Blair kissed Jim goodbye. "I have classes to prepare and a textbook to write." Blair waved at them once from across the pond before walking away. 

"You don't mind having a queer freak for a partner," said Jim. 

"It is better than having a straight freak," Robin said as they walked back to the station. 

"I only have eyes for Blair." 

"I am glad that you aren't interested in me." Robin winced. "Who would want a man that can see every line and every wrinkle, smells your bad breath a mile away, and can listen in on every phone conversation?" 

* * *

End Dr. Blair Sandburg by Dana: rochelle@mitchellware.com

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